‘Okay,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll be back before the weekend.’
He doesn’t answer. I turn around to look for him but the sly fucker’s already long gone, disappeared into the darkness.
#
Fuck it, I need a drink. I stop at a bar on the way home, trying to work out what the hell I should do. I could always just disappear, I tell myself again for about the hundredth time tonight. Maybe I could fake my own death? Neither option is definite enough. There’s always a chance I’ll be found, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my days constantly looking over my shoulder. I’ve been doing enough of that as it is.
I want Moira dead. That much is certain. I don’t trust her and I can’t pay her off. I need her gone.
There are too many people in this bar. It’s packed and I find myself looking from face to fac
